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Friday, August 19, 2005


And Then Madge Was One!

August 21, 2005
An entire year of lovely Maggie-ness. Our little stinker. Madge. The Smooth Madgerator. Our little amazon baby.

They say that every cell in your body renews itself every seven years. Every seven years each cell changes over to a brand new cell. Every two thousand five hundred and fifty five days, you become a whole new person.

In this one year, I think all of my cells changed over. That is how much I have changed this year. I am a whole new person. And I don’t want to go back. Ever. Because if I did, I would miss you too much.

Oh how life has changed since you came onto the scene. That quiet August night a year ago. I woke up to what I thought was going to be massive diarrhea and guess what? It wasn’t diarrhea. It was YOU.

I called the nurse to tell her I was ready to go to the hospital after only about 15 minutes of labor. She told me to wait two hours. I told her I was coming anyways because I KNEW something was going on. And I was right.

Then came one delicious epidural and three hours of not so delicious pushing, and a few other unsavory things I will keep to myself for now, and THERE YOU WERE!

Oh my. I had no idea the amazing ride I was in store for.

You are a year old and I am completely smitten, gob-smacked, crazy in love. You are a treasure, Maggie. You truly are.

Here are some fun things you do now:

You tackle your teddy bear, who is bigger than you are. You tackle him and give him these wonderful gleeful baby bear hugs. Zany. That’s the word. Zany.

You size people up with a discerning eye. When you see a new person you look right at them. Straight in their eyes. You gaze at them, deciding for yourself what you think of them. It’s a sight to behold. You are very direct and straightforward in doing this. You make no effort to be subtle or dance around the subject. You just stop, stare for a solid minute or so, and after making your assessment, you go on with your business.

You have a wee bit of a temper. If I take my time getting you out of your crib in the morning you pitch a fit and throw your binky, and whatever else is in your crib, across the room in protest. You are not afraid to voice your displeasure. Oh, not at all.

You like to pull hair. HARD. When I try to firmly tell you “NO” you look at me and break out into maniacal laughter. It’s as though you already know I struggle with discipline and find my efforts to be strict hysterically funny.

You stand in your crib and greet me each morning with “Hi Yere”! You can go from miserable wailing to grinning high-beam “Hi Yere!” in about a nanosecond the moment you see me enter your room. It is the best way to wake up in the morning my dear. I never thought I liked mornings until I had you as my early morning greeter. You are so genuinely happy to see me. It just makes my day.

You have the best happy scream EVER.

You have the most amazing look of wide eyed wonderment I have ever seen. It makes my heart swell with love and gratitude.

You like to eat. A lot. Blueberries and cheese. Can’t get enough of them.

You really like things that SPIN. You will spin a coaster on the carpet. Then you will take it to the kitchen floor to see how it spins there. Then you will take it to the tile on the fireplace hearth to see how it spins THERE. You are a methodical little coaster spinner.

You are also a tough little thing. You have battled the coffee table and lost. You can fall into the corner of the table so hard it leaves a nasty looking bruise, but you only cry for a minute. You are too busy to cry. You have things to do for crying out loud.

There is not much that you are afraid of. You love to explore and you hate to be restrained or restricted in any way. You climb stairs with wild abandon. I am certain I will lament this at some point due to the worry it will cause me. But it seems to be who you are, sweets. I love who you are.

Here are some of the things I want for you.

I want you to be comfortable in your own skin. I want you to know and like yourself. To love and be loved. I want you to laugh and cry and sing in your own voice, with your own words. I want you to learn and discover and grow and wonder and marvel at the world. All at your own pace. I want you to see the world as a friendly place. I want you to know that no matter what happens that you are loved. That you are good. That your soul is perfect, even in its imperfection.

Here are some things I want you to know. Remember them always.

Your heart. I see it and I know it and it is pure and good. Not in an only-if-you-remain-a-virgin-until-you-are-30 kind of a way. Your heart is pure and good in the way that I know no matter what experiences you have and survive, no matter how shameful you may think your behavior has been, NO MATTER WHAT, your soul is good. And sweet. And pure. This is true even when you can’t feel it. I know this because I am your mother. Mothers just know these things. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Ever.

The best things in life are usually a little scary at first. Take motherhood for example. In the beginning, I didn’t quite take to it as I had envisioned. I was scared and panic stricken. I felt alone, and I was ashamed that I felt so confused. I didn’t feel like I KNEW you right away. It actually felt a little “wrong” at first. I cried a lot.

After a while though, we got to know each other. I can tell you with certainty that I am happier, better, and I am more filled with love and purpose than I ever was before I became your mother. I would not go back for a zillion dollars. Not for anything.
You are the very best thing I ever did.

No matter how mad I get at you in the years to come, know this: I love you. Your Dad loves you. We love you. Always and forever and in everything we do. No matter what you do. We love you.

I always wanted to be your mom. Always. And I always will be.

And I WILL get mad at you. And you will get mad at me. OH YOU WILL get mad at me. It’s my job as a mother to make you mad at me. And it’s okay to be mad at me.

I have to keep reminding myself to live in the moment. I get so excited thinking about how much fun we are going to have. How fun it will be when we can make blueberry pancakes, and when I can take you to an amusement park, and when we can paint together. But then I look back in how fast this year went by and I want to savor each moment. It just went so FAST! I heard someone say once that when you have children the days are long and the years are short. I know what they mean.

Last night we went to your cousin Jane’s 12th birthday party. Jane chose to celebrate her birthday in a buffalo wing bar because she likes chicken wings and trivia and because she is now 12 and she is just fun like that. In the midst of all the chaos and trivia and chicken wings you held your arms out for me to hold you. I picked you up and you did something you don’t do very often. You sat STILL. You rested your head on my shoulder and let me hold you and rub your back and it was the dearest and loveliest feeling I have ever experienced. Ever. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be your mother.

Happy Birthday Maggie.

Love, Mommy


Blogger JB said...

See, deep down inside you’re just a really sweet, sentimental mommyblogger.

Just kidding! :)-

I love this letter to Maggie; I really do. I hope you have a hard copy somewhere because someday it will make your daughter very happy to read it. It made ME happy to read it, and I’m not even your daughter.

Lucky Maggie, lucky you!

8:52 AM  
Anonymous Kari said...

Happy Birthday Maggie!

Woo-hoo! The big oh-one!

11:13 AM  
Blogger Katie Burke said...


I started crying while reading this post. And I was going to say to you just what jb said - that you should make sure this post is saved somewhere else, in case it gets lost here.

As someone whose mother does not express sentiments like these, I can feel in these words how much you love your daughter and how blessed she is to have you. What a wonderful life she will have, if you continue to tell her all of these things throughout the years.

You have probably read this on my comments to other people, but I have been unable to find time to read any blogs over the past month - although I did quickly check yours once on the day you wrote the Paris Hilton post. Loved that one! Can't remember if I commented. Anyway, I kept getting more and more behind, and I finally surrendered today to the fact that I will never be able to catch up on all that I have missed. So I return to your blog today and will start up again from here. What a great post to come back to!

5:27 PM  
Blogger Jenny said...

Happy Birthday, Wee Madge! (And Happy Birthday to you, sweet Meghan.)

7:14 PM  
Blogger Donna said...


10:33 AM  
Blogger GraceD said...

Happy Birthday, Lovely Maggie!

And I echo the wonderous Jenny - Happy Birthday to you, too, Meghan. Your first year as a mother. One. Big. Deal.

7:52 PM  
Anonymous Allison said...

I don't know you (came over via Half Changed World), but I thoroughly enjoyed reading your letter to your daughter. Mine will be one next month, and it's been the ride of a lifetime.

Most of all, I especially love your notes about wanting her to find her own voice...YES, exactly. That's what I hope for my daughter as well.

Best wishes, and hugs to your princess.

10:03 PM  

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